Like Clockwork
by Rhianwen
Summary: In a world full of thrillseekers, Alex is anything but. Boredom is security, and security comes with routine. And the Sanitarium opening up next door does not fit into the routine. AlexOC, AlexGina.
1. Chapter 1

Like Clockwork

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, and they'd probably look at me funny for this one, too.

* * *

Summary: In a world full of thrill-seekers, Alex is anything but. Boredom is security, and security comes with routine. And the Sanitarium opening up next door does not fit into the routine.

* * *

In a world full of thrill-seekers, souls hunting desperate for the next adrenaline rush, the next big excitement, Alex is anything but. 

_Boredom_ is a misnomer for the state better described as _security_. Excitement means risk, and risk means change.

And he has quite enough trouble remembering the mundane details amid the perplexing world of his thoughts and ideas already, thank-you kindly.

He's lucky; it seems like nothing's changed in months. Every season coming and going as it should, everyone in town saying always exactly what he expects, the only surprises coming through the work he's spent the past decade immersed in.

And occasionally, very occasionally, evenings with Robyn.

It's a little strange, just how _occasional_ they are, when she's airily declared so often that she _never_ works at night, because there's more than enough time in the day for all she has to do.

There are other strange things, too, like the sharp scent of a cologne he's never worn wafting out through the tiny crack in the door when she pokes her head out to tell him that she's _a little busy right now for a surprise visit but thank-you anyway, honey. _

And the little ruby necklace she hasn't taken off for months when she never used to wear jewellery, declaring it a silly extravagance until he gave up buying it for her.

And the longish brown hairs clinging to Dan's shoulders when he comes in for a check-up – after all, Eve's hair is pale as morning sunlight, and wavy, and Dan has made no secret about his elation that they're finally close enough to leave hairs on each other.

But Alex doesn't ask questions about any of it, because he knows Robyn must be lonely, relying on her _workaholic_ _boyfriend _to make time for her. He's a little confused on when exactly he became a _boyfriend_, but he doesn't ask questions about that, either.

She'll settle down when they marry, and hopefully work will too, and they'll fall into the lulling safety of routine.

The Sanitarium opening up next door does _not_ fit into the routine.

When he first found out about it via the strange little letters that people in this town send in lieu of walking the twenty steps across the street to visit their neighbours, he was hard-pressed to be terribly enthusiastic.

Despite Robyn's reproachful reminder that _change is exciting, honey_, and her suggestions that the new nurse might have some exciting new ideas for the Clinic, or that the patient might have a very rare illness that could help him make medical history.

But a head nurse with _ideas_ could be an exhausting creature, and a patient with the potential to make medical history doubly, so he still isn't terribly enthusiastic.

All of his cringing had not stopped the opening date from creeping up, though, and Martha was right: there was no reason to send this mysterious Gina Forester and her mysterious Dia Gevora fleeing at first sight of the place.

A lacy curtain here, a colourful painting there, a little plaster cat to stand sentinel on the top of the desk…

He's just finished moving the tiny plaster tabby back to the upper left-hand corner from the right, when the click of the door opening sends him straightening abruptly, with a slightly forced smile.

The planned generic welcome dies on his lips as the young woman in the doorway shuffles nervously into the airy main level, still sparsely decorated and smelling of fresh paint.

She ducks slightly behind her curled fist at his gaze fixed intently on her, but he can still see the smile in her eyes, wide and curious behind round wire-rimmed glasses as she introduces herself as _not Miss Forester, please, just Gina_.

When he crosses the room in a few long strides, inches away and looming at least a foot and a half over her despite the lankiness that followed him from adolescence, introducing himself as _yes, I'm the doctor, but please call me Alex if you like,_ her cheeks grow slightly pink.

His own face feels warm, his head strangely light, and his subconscious already busy rewriting the past few weeks to erase any trace of misgivings at the thought of her arrival.

_You must have noticed that Miss Dia isn't here_, she pipes up into the silence, and he hasn't, but nods anyway, and it transpires that _Miss Dia_ will be visiting with some relatives for a few weeks, so for now it's just her.

_You say that as though it's a bad thing, _he thinks, but doesn't say, because he hasn't any business even thinking that sort of thing, about how nice it would be to spend _time alone_ with this girl, with he and Robyn being _on-again_ right now.

Then again, he probably also has no business being so captivated by that tiny softpink smile, or those softly shining honeybrown eyes. No business being so fascinated by the curve of her waist where the strings of her prim white apron pull the fabric tightly to her slim, curvy little shape.

No business feeling like every prayer in his life has been answered at once, when she bends over to retrieve the little suitcase she left out on the doorstep.

_Can I help you unpack?_

Maybe, if he acts like a gentleman, he'll become one, and his mind will stop wandering to parts of helpless young girls that it shouldn't dwell on.

_Oh...that would be very nice. Thank-you, Doctor._

_Alex._

_Doctor Alex?_

And out of nowhere, he's laughing.

It's a nice afternoon, hauling in boxes and books and pots that are as familiar to him as breathing, and they swap recipes and stories and _super-secret cure-alls _while they organize her supplies and equipment on the wide wooden shelves, after they're finished wrangling about whether to arrange them alphabetically by name or by ailment. 

And maybe it's because he _understands_ her, because he's spent the afternoon listening very attentively, that she offers him a cup of tea and some cookies, eyes wide and very hopeful even as she muffles a yawn.

_You've been travelling all day; you must be exhausted. I should go._

And he runs.

---------------------------------------

He's been craving tea all evening.

And somehow, the hot cocoa and the orange soda Robyn offered in its place because _it_ _tastes so much better_ isn't doing the trick.

But the evening is still lovely. The air is light and fragrant and cool with a slight breeze as they rock idly back and forth in the porch swing she invested in recently because _it looked so nice on that house in town!_

When she shifts slightly, he glances down, and the mass of longish brown spilling over his shoulder gives him a start.

Why on earth is pale blue stuck in his mind?

"So, how did it go?"

He hesitates.

"Fine."

The one-word answer tells nothing, but the slight flush in his cheeks and his badly kept secret weakness for a pretty girl in glasses speak volumes, and Robyn understands.

Maybe more than he wants her to.

She grins.

"Don't get too attached."

_Definitely_ more than he wants her to.

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End Notes: And that's all for now. I don't know if this warrants continuing. I'm having fun with it, so I'll probably write the rest, but if it's really ghastly bad, I won't inflict it upon the internet. As my good deed for the year. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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She was _supposed_ to be here to run the Sanitarium.

But it feels so natural, watching her bustle quietly around the Clinic, rearranging and organizing and finishing little jobs he left in the middle, that it isn't long until he's forgotten that too.

And when her best friend, her Miss Dia comes, she works hard to get them used to each other, while Martha beamingly adopts the frail little dark-haired girl as quickly as she adopted Gina.

She's fit very well into his routine after all.

* * *

"Doctor, if you're looking for your appointment book, you left it in the supply closet."

He looks up from the task of turning his desk inside out, and stares.

"Don't be silly, Gina, why would I take it to the closet?"

She hesitates, looks away, clasps her hands behind her back and fidgets a little.

He tries not to notice the way the gentle motion pulls the fabric of her dress snug across her chest.

"I-I didn't really know. But I thought you must have a reason, so I didn't move it."

Shaking his head and tsking slightly, he hurries to the closet…

…and seconds later, hurries back with his appointment book.

"Okay, then," he mutters, shaking his head, flipping through the coil notebook as he settles back at his desk. The carefully drawn little grid with today's date shows the rest of the day clear. He gazes briefly outside, into the mellow light of late summer afternoon. "Gina?"

"Hmm?"

"We don't have any appointments scheduled for the rest of the day, and I think everything else should keep until tomorrow. Why don't you take the rest of the day off, go outside for some fresh air?"

"O-oh!" Her cheeks grow pink, and she looks like she might be trying to fight off a big smile. "Thank-you, Doctor, but I don't mind staying, if you'd like to keep working."

"Actually, I was thinking of going for a nice, long walk."

Her smile falters a little.

"Um, Doctor, you do remember that you made plans with Robyn for tonight, don't you?"

He stares blankly, feeling strangely as though he's done this before.

"If I had, I would have written it down. The evening is blank."

"Because you couldn't find the appointment book when she was here earlier," she finishes, hiding a smile.

He ponders this carefully, and dimly recalls Robyn hanging about earlier this morning, looking utterly bored at his explanation of the many uses of the roots he was working with, and trying to turn the conversation to the love lives of their young neighbours.

That was about the point that his eyes glazed over, although Gina's lit up with enough eager interest at who was happily in love with who.

It was an interesting sight, watching his _beloved_ chatting happily with his nurse, watching him half-suspicious and half-triumphant out of the corner of her eye.

"Ah. Right. Thank-you, Gina."

"Of course, Sir."

* * *

It is several hours later, the world bathed in moonlight, before Alex finally hurries from the Clinic and down the cobblestone path past the Ranch, toward the little gray and blue farmhouse.

Without a blue-haired bespectacled little maiden to prod him to write down his date instead of wandering off to check the supplies, it took a horrified Martha exclaiming that he was going to be late, to make him put down the textbook and leap to his feet.

He drags one hand through his hair and shifts uncomfortably without the weight of his labcoat. Robyn, he knows, hates it when he wears the thing to see her, because _I like dating a doctor, honey, but not all the time. I like dating just _Alex_, too._

Alex thinks that she might be missing several things about who _just Alex_ is, but he's not about to correct her, when he's already nearly fifteen minutes late.

So absorbed is he in piecing together a properly contrite apology, that he utterly misses the farmhouse and wanders down over the bridge to the Workshop and the forest before he notices.

But now that he's noticed _one_ thing, he becomes quickly better at it, and when a dark shape approaches Robyn's door, he notices immediately, and ducks quickly behind a tree to watch.

"Dan!" 

He can tell, even from this distance, that her expression is a beaming smile of pure joy, the one he fell for but has almost forgotten because it's been a long time since he's done anything to earn it.

It's almost a shame, that she'll have to send the boy away in favour of existing plans, when he's just made her smile like that; Alex likes seeing that smile, even if it's not for him.

Dan isn't sent away; instead, is given a bearhug by a Robyn-comet, and led inside.

Apparently, she forgot about tonight, too.

He starts slowly back to the Clinic, because he's not in the mood for a walk anymore, thinking with a dry, bitter smile, that _maybe it's catching_.

* * *

Gina knows that she's being silly.

He's a doctor; he's seen many people, in many states of undress. Why on earth would he even _notice_ that she's in her nightgown and her flimsy little robe is coming untied because when she woke up from a nightmare to notice his light still burning at the wee small hours of the morning, she hurried right over, too annoyed at his self-destructive habits to tie it properly?

He seems far more concerned, anyway, with whatever it is that's making him look so terribly despondent.

"Doctor," she calls softly, closing the door noiselessly and creeping closer to his desk. "What's wrong? Did—did something happen to Robyn?"

Alex laughs, head still bowed on his hands. Gina shivers a little at that laugh and abruptly moves her hand from its light touch at his shoulder.

"No, she's fine. It seems that I'm not the only one with a selective memory."

"Oh, no. She forgot about this evening too?"

He straightens up and smiles reassuringly at the pale little linen-clad shape that materialized behind him from out of nowhere.

"Something like that. She had other plans."

Her eyes transmit mute golden-brown sympathy, and he releases a silent, relieved breath, because if she knew everything she would be devastated and awkward and probably hugging and soothing.

"I'm sorry, Alex. I know you were looking forward to it."

It occurs to him briefly to wonder when exactly he gave that impression, between forgetting about it in favour of a walk and forgetting about it in favour of a book, but he hardly wants to point out to this soft-hearted creature, with her big eyes and tranquil smile and silky pale blue waves falling over her shoulders, his own shortcomings as a boyfriend.

When she begins gathering up the files he's been steadily ignoring for the last two hours, he forgets what he was wondering.

"Hey, wait a minute, Gina. What are you doing?"

She tries to fix him with a stern eye over her glasses, and achieves a kind of playful, impish pout at best.

"It's late, Doctor. If these things could keep until tomorrow morning this afternoon, they can wait until tomorrow morning now."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep anyway," he sighs, sending her a pleading look and attempting to tug the folders back out of her hands.

"Then please try to relax, at least. Why don't you read a book instead? Or have some tea? Would you like me to make it?"

He means to refuse, but her eyes are wide and hopeful, and he finds himself smiling.

"Only if you'll join me for a cup."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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"So, where were you last night?"

Alex shrugs absently and continues with the notes he and Gina are assembling on Dia's last appointment.

A man has to be in a certain _mood _to humbly apologize, and he is far from it.

He might have been late because of his own carelessness, but it took only fifteen minutes for his place to be filled.

But Robyn is carefree like that, and like skipping into the Clinic in the middle of the morning and giggling over the sight of the doctor and his nurse drinking tea together, _like a pair of confirmed, dyed-in-the-wool old maids_.

"I was running a few minutes late, and by the time I got there, you seemed busy."

Robyn frowns, and Gina tries to make herself invisible without the disruption of _leaving_. 

"I was in all night."

"But you had other guests."

"Ohh, you should have come in anyway!"

He stiffens at her arms around him from behind, but even though Gina _wishes_ she wasn't here, she is, and Robyn doesn't like _scenes_. Robotically, he lifts one hand to grasp the sunbrowned ones folded at his chest.

"I'll come in next time."

She _shouldn't_ be convinced, he almost wishes that she wasn't becaues her mind must be _very_ far away not to notice the artificiality in this whole scene, but she's still Robyn, and she's still carefree, so she sparkles and giggles and announces that she's going back home to finish her chores before her chickens spring a mutiny on her.

And just before she goes, she drops a kiss on Gina's smooth pale oval cheek just as warm and sweet as the one he receives.

As the quick, light footsteps of his _one true love_ fade, he turns back to his work to find a pair of honeybrown eyes fixed curiously and anxiously on him. He smiles reassuringly, trying not to feel sick at how easily the little farmer kisses other people.

He's seen Robyn fiddling idly with Dan's ruby pendant, a dreamy smile on her lips, for months. Why should should it only bother him now, when he spent this morning shaking off last night's echoes of pale silverblue in place of warm nutbrown?

"Doctor, are you feeling ill?"

The base of her wrist at his forehead is cool and smooth, and the citrus and clover scent lingering faintly around her quiets his worry and anger far more than it should. His smile this time is more genuine.

"No, Gina, I'm just fine. Would you like another cup of tea?"

--------------------------------------------

It is two days before an inkling of worry can work its way through the _everything else_ Robyn has on her mind, and well into the afternoon before she can find a second to make a special visit.

Gina made special plans with herself to visit the Library this afternoon; Alex told her _that_.

She walks quickly toward the Town Square, even though she _really_ doesn't want to do this. Might as well get it over with. Pull off a Band-Aid and do it quick.

It only takes a minute to stiffen her resolve, images filtering gradually into place, illuminated by horrified exaggeration, of _her_ Alex's eyes lighting up when they light on blue hair and crisp white aprons; the two-in-the-morning social call he mentioned in passing last night; his hand resting gently at a scrawny little shoulder swathed in ugly striped cotton.

Alex might not be perfect, but he's _hers_, he has been for months, and if he wants to change his mind, he can change it on his own and not leave it to a third party because, _well, Gina's closer. _

She'll be upset, the _third party _in question, but it's for her own good.

----------------------------------------------

"What're you reading?"

Gina looks up, startled right out of the struggles of Jane and a secret, fierce, half-ashamed longing to find her own Mr. Rochester. She doesn't have a chance to reply, barely has a chance to blink before a brown pigtail is almost tickling her nose as Robyn leans in for a closer look.

"Oh, Jane Eyre. Yeah, I figured you probably read bleak, depressing garbage like this for fun."

"I don't find it so depressing," Gina protests, brow furrowed as she puzzles through how _anyone_ could think that. "Except for the part about Bertha."

Incredulously,

"The crazy wife?"

"I just wish I knew how she went mad, and why Rochester shut her in the attic instead of trying to help her."

"I guess there's only so much you can do when your wife goes off her nut," Robyn shrugs indifferently.  
"But what if Jane were to go mad?"

"Living with that guy, any woman who wasn't already nuts would."

But Gina doesn't laugh, and Robyn's fingers itch to smack her until she stops looking despondent before they've even touched on the purpose of this visit.

"Would she be shut up in the attic, with someone new in her place?"

A long-suffering sigh.

"Talk about borrowing trouble. Does it really matter?"

"I think it does," the bespectacled little maiden objects, startled into a huffy tone of voice by this unexpected attack on what she chooses to occupy _her own personal thoughts_ with. "I think it can be interesting to give literature a little more thought than what _did_ happen, and consider what _could_ have happened."

It's not the _greatest_ opening, but Robyn is good at settling for less.

"Okay, then. Here's another hypothetical situation for you. Say _Rochester_ gets this new job."

"Um, he was maimed in the end," Gina points out hesitantly.

"That's why it's _hypothetical_, Gina. Play along."

"Well, alright…"

And the _hypothetical situation _goes, already a familiar story to Robyn from hours awake last night trying to decide whether to be furious or devestated.

A man obsessed with work, with no time for a girlfriend who doesn't like to be stifled, but might prefer a _little_ more affection. Even though Gina busily scours her mind and still can't recall Mr. Rochester relaxing very much, job or no job. But that isn't the _important _part. The man is so obsessed with his job that nothing else matters, even the things that _men _are _always_ interested in.

Gina's cheeks flash bright red, and Robyn kind of wants to cry, because the little nurse is _really cute_ when she blushes, and maybe it's not so impossible to see what Alex sees in this mousy little thing.

Just like the man in the story; his new assistant is practically his female doppelganger, and she works all the time, and she blushes when someone says _panties_.

And the story continues. The mysterious _assistant_ is _really cute_, and the lousy workaholic talks about her all the time and thinks about her the other half. But he _is_ still totally oblivious to everything that isn't work, and almost totally asexual besides, and the cute little assistant is too shy to hold a guy's hand, so—

"Robyn!"

"Yeah?"

"Are you talking about the doctor?"

"Hey, now that you mention it, that _does_ kind of sound like him!"

"Well, it doesn't sound much like _Jane Eyre_," Gina points out disapprovingly.

"I don't blame _you_, you know. I just want to know what's going on."

It's almost _satisfying_, when all the colour of that cute warm blush quickly drain's from the little nurse's cheeks, leaving her pale and horrified.

"Pardon me?"

"You were over there at two in the morning."

"I woke up, and I saw the light still on. I went over to get him to bed."

_I'll bet you did._

"By making a pot of tea and staying to help him empty it?"

"He seemed so sad when I went over to tell him to turn out the lights and go to bed. I didn't want to leave him alone."

The brunette laughs softly, and stands.

"I know, Gina. You're a little sweetie. And Alex likes sweet little girls. Especially sweet little girls that make him tea and pick up after him."

"Robyn, I swear to you, absolutely nothing has happened."

"And I believe you. But you're his type. For your own sake, you might want to think about turning jaded and bitchy before you get sledgehammered into making a bad decision for him."

"Robyn." Gina's voice is soft, almost inaudible, but maybe there's a reason that people only start yelling when they know they've lost the argument. "No matter what he thinks of me, the doctor loves you very much. He was upset that night because he thought you'd forgotten your date."

A soft noise of amused disgust.

"He's just lucky he's got his sights set on a girl who's gullible enough to fall for that crap."

Gina squeezes her eyes tightly shut against a rush of tears, and gulps desperately around the knot gathering in her throat. She _can't_ cry in front of Robyn, can't prove that she really _is_ just a _sweet little girl_ instead of an intelligent woman, capable of taking care of herself and the ones dearest to her.

But after the past few days, she came here, to the library and to Jane Eyre, to escape from all the things that are making her head ache just now.

Like Dia running away whenever she's confronted with a stranger, when part of the reason behind the move here was to surround her with kind people as much as fresh air and healthy food.

And the problems they're _still_ having with the plumbing, even worse because she tried to fix it herself after that Kurt who seems so interested in Dia, went home because he thought his presence upset the pretty dark-haired girl.

And the puzzling issue of her boss acting so strangely for about a week now, watching her closely at all times as though not trusting her to _move_ without making a mess, even going so far as to visit the Sanitarium again last night when his date ended earlier than he had expected.

And now, Robyn is upset because she's misinterpreted the doctor's concern for the well being of his Clinic as attraction to his nurse.

"I wish you could bring yourself to trust him, Robyn," she murmurs, mostly to herself, which is just as well, because by the time the tears gathering at her eyelashes begin to dry and she feels safe opening her eyes again, Robyn is gone.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

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Dia considers it a matter of _self-preservation_, to not get involved in the romantic affairs of others.

It hasn't been a tremendous issue in the past, because Gina, effectively her only friend for the first nineteen years of their lives, has had no more interest in _romance_ than romance had in her.

It's a little more of an issue, when she finds out that her sense of self-preservation extends to avoiding her _own_ love life, and she finds herself running, terrified, when she sees that dark-haired Kurt boy with the beautiful dark eyes. But he seems very patient, still coming everyday for the few seconds he can see her, and smiling at her just before she bolts whenever they meet outside.

So maybe things will work out, given time.

But when Gina comes pelting back into the Sanitarium and leaps directly into bed to hide, sobbing, under the covers, it isn't the kind of situation where she can _take her time_ and wait for things to work themselves out.

Especially when she suspects that it has something to do with the doctor.

She's trying very hard not to jump to any conclusions – he's a _very_ nice man, and he's been _so_ kind and attentive with Gina. Her best-friend-forever needs more friends like him.

For that matter, _she_ wouldn't mind having more friends like him.

But she's been told all her life that she's a _very_ observant girl, so it's only natural that she's noticed that recently, the doctor has been looking at Gina like he doesn't want her for only a friend, in spite of a pretty brunette hanging on his arm every spare second and making her fear for her life when the doctor is taking a blood test.

And it's hard not to notice, even for people less observant than Dia, that Gina always blushes when he smiles at her, and touches her, and comes up very closely behind her to show her the _right way_ to do something.

But Gina doesn't cry over normal things, like sad books and unrequited love. She saves her tears for guilt and shame.

She's a funny girl that way.

So what on earth has her so upset all of a sudden?

"Gina," she calls quietly to the girl lying facedown in the cot in the homey, prettily decorated little room away at the back of the building. "What happened?"

A sniffle, and the little apron-clad shape drags herself into a sitting position, dashing away tears with the back of her hand. A wobbly smile.

"Nothing, Dia, it's all right

Dia crosses her arms and surveys her best friend and attendant skeptically.

"Of course, because you come tearing back home and shut yourself up in your room to cry over _nothing_ all the time."

Gina curls in on herself a little more and looks away, and with a small sigh of irritation, Dia crawls onto the cot and enfolds her in a soothing hug.

"I won't leave you alone until you tell me what's going on, you know.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Gina mutters, cuddling obediently up to her friend after a brief rendezvous with her handkerchief.

"Then give me the basic outline," Dia urges, tugging playfully at one of Gina's braids. "Just so I know if I have to go beat anyone up for you." The next instant, she's pouting as Gina laughs. "What, you don't think I could?"

Gina gives another little giggle, and despite this _very_ disturbing insult to her personal strength, Dia can't help but smile. Even if she _is_ having her air supply choked off just a little bit by Gina's affectionate nature. She laughs, vaguely like a wheeze, and waves off Gina's horrified apology.

"Now, are you going to tell me what happened? Sometimes it's nice to just say it out loud to someone and get another perspective."

A long pause.

"I think Robyn thinks I'm a floozy."

And now it's Dia's turn to laugh, no dainty little giggle, but a guffaw so loud and sudden that Gina winces.

"A _floozy_? You? You blushed when _Eve_ gave you a hug."

"You'd better beat her up, Dia. I'll seduce her, and you get her from behind while her attention is on me."

"_Smart-ass_, I might believe," Dia huffs, crossing her arms as effectively as she can while they're around Gina. "But not floozy."

"She thinks I'm trying to steal the doctor from her."

Grimly,

"Ah."

"What?" Gina exclaims, alarmed at Dia's utter lack of shock at this mad idea. "You don't think I actually _am_, do you? I would never do that! All I've done is try to be friends with both of them! They're both wonderful people, and it means a lot to me that the doctor trusts me enough to confide in me about their relationship, but that doesn't mean I want him for myself! I think they're wonderful together, and I wouldn't want to disrupt that kind of happiness! Even if they _weren't_ getting along, I wouldn't try to interfere, because it's not for me to decide for him what is and isn't a good relationship, and I think she's being awfully unfair to assume—"

"Gina!" Dia was raised not to _interrupt_ people, but hysteria is hysteria, and what sort of friend would she be if she just _let_ Gina dissolve into hysteria and make herself feel worse? "I don't think you're trying to steal the doctor. I know you've just been trying to be his friend. But I think you need to think about whether that's all _he_ wants."

Gina blinks confused tear-wet eyes.

"Alex has a wonderful, sweet, lively, beautiful girl. What would he want with a—"

"A wonderful, sweet, _quiet_, beautiful girl who can nearly read his mind?"

"But he has Robyn!" Gina wails. "They were happy before we got here."

Dia says nothing. There was something about the way Dan's arm was wrapped around Robyn's waist when she saw them out walking the other day that makes her wonder, just a little bit, how _happy_ Robyn is with the doctor. And the doctor is no fool; maybe he's wondered, too.

"Maybe I _have_ been coming on too strong," the little nurse sniffles, happily letting Dia pull her into another hug. "I didn't _think_ I was flirting, but maybe that's how it came across to him."

"I think," Dia begins cautiously, stroking her friend's hair, "that if anyone has been coming on strong, it's him. But I do think you've been a little too willing to overlook it."

Gina looks down, crestfallen.

"I—I have? I honestly don't think he means anything by it."

Dia hesitates. Likely, the doctor doesn't think he means anything by it, either. But how can she tell Gina, practical, precise, mathematical Gina, who believes that _love_ is only a combination of pheromones, fear of abandonment, and good timing, that the doctor is well on the way to falling in love with her without even knowing it? That just sounds ridiculous, even to her, and she's the one who believes staunchly in _love at first sight_ and _soulmates_.

"Robyn obviously thinks he means something by it," she finally replies firmly, waving off Gina's automatic protest. "And keep in mind, Gina, she does know him better than you do."

With one more heroic sniffle and swipe with her handkerchief, Gina buries her face in Dia's shoulder again.

"I don't know what to do. I like them both so much, and I love working at the Clinic, and I really want to keep being the doctor's friend." She straightens up, and Dia brushes at a teardrop clinging to her friend's nose. "But I don't want to harm their relationship!"

"I don't think there's any way to help _that_," Dia shrugs scornfully. "It seems to me that they're both very willing to be pulled apart. It's certainly not _your_ responsibility to fix their relationship."

"I know, but—"

Patience finally snapping entirely, Dia attempts to stomp her foot, and fails utterly due to being curled up on Gina's bed.

"You can't blame yourself for everyone else's problems, Gina! And you can't spend your life trying to fix them! You have your own life, and your own dreams, and your own happiness to think about! You're learning a lot at the Clinic that's helping both of us, and I've never seen you this confident before. You can't give that up just because Robyn is finally starting to realize that some men won't settle for being her boyfriend when, and only when, it suits her." She winces at Gina's startled look, recalling a little too late that Robyn's possible feelings for a man other than the doctor is still purely conjecture. Forcing a smile, she pulls the hankie gently out of Gina's hand, holds her chin firmly, and swipes delicately at the tears marring the other girl's translucently pale skin. "What I mean is, you're under no obligation to rearrange your life just because Robyn doesn't trust her boyfriend."

"I know, Dia," Gina finally sighs. She opens her mouth to say more, then stops and seems to deflate. With a weak smile, she disentangles herself reluctantly from Dia's arms. "I should get your tea ready."

Dia makes a face.

"I think I would almost prefer the chest congestion."

"Dia! It's not that bad!"

"Why don't you try a little?" Dia sniffs playfully.

Gina shoots her a wobbly little smile.

"What if I put honey in it? Do you think that might help?"

Dia squeezes her hand gratefully.

"It might. Thank-you, Gina."

As the light footsteps retreat and the door clicks shut, Dia flops back on Gina's bed, heedless of the wrinkles no doubt forming in her pretty green and gold brocade skirts.

_If I ever fall in love_, she thinks with a long sigh, dark eye, a tiny quirk of a smile, and a perpetual cloud of sawdust drifting through her mind_, it might finish me off for good._

_-------------------------------------------------------------- _


End file.
